Between the Sheets
by Epona3
Summary: A series of one-shots about the non-Annie women in Auggie's life, starting with his first one-night-stand after his accident. All of these will have implied sex, but they aren't about the sex, they are more about the circumstances.
1. Recovery

**_Now for something completely different. Between working on Sunshine and Rainbows and Weather Patterns (which is still in the works), I've had some spells where I have worked on other things. Some of these distractions have been stories involving Auggie's one-night-stands. _**

**_No idea how many of these there may be, but today I give you Auggies first blind-night-stand. _**

August Anderson had never lacked confidence.

In high school, he was a god among nerds, and an athlete demanding respect. His broad range of friends gave him enough perspective to be kind enough, but there was no denying that he was cocky as hell. He was one of the rare few that deserved to be cocky. There was never a moment that he had reason to doubt himself.

This confidence grew as his education and training increased through college. His wrestling expertise led to interest in other hand to hand combat methods, which led to his interest in the military.

In the military, he knew as well as his superiors that he was going to be one of the elite. There was no surprise when he was recruited to the Special Forces, and from there disappeared into Delta Force operations. He was the best.

Now, while returning home from a rehabilitation center in the outskirts of Washington D.C., August Anderson was adjusting to more than a disability. He was adjusting to a lack of confidence. He was making more mistakes than he had ever made in his life. Of course, he was always one to make mistakes, it was the best way to learn, but he had never made the same mistake twice. The feeling was quickly eating away at his spirit.

In the rehabilitation center, he was surrounded by assistance. He found a balance between accepting the help, and struggling on his own. This was his first compromise.

Each person he worked with had their own description in his mind. He learned to catalogue their scents, the feel of their arms as they guided him, and their voices. He came up with his own descriptions of the people.

Stella was an old lady that he couldn't help but think of as being like his grandmother. She was shorter than the rest, but strong. She would help Auggie, but she was also the first to tell him the truth in a way that he needed to hear things. This was why she was one of his favorites.

There was Dan, a male nurse that barely said anything, who's only responsibility was to occasionally help Auggie get to the correct room for his sessions. He wore a lotion that reminded Auggie of winters in Illinois, when the air was dry and everybody's skin began to crack. Auggie wondered if Dan was as uncomfortable around all of the other patients as he seemed with him.

Donna, the occupational therapist, thought she was funnier than she really was. It was a slightly endearing quality that Auggie could admire.

There was a man in the cafeteria who's name Auggie didn't know who always patiently listed the food that was available. Auggie knew he had to do it for everybody, yet he never rushed or seemed aggravated by the inconvenience.

But now Auggie was in the real world, where people were less-than-patient and he didn't know what names went with the voices. It was only a weekend at home, a trial run on his own. He needed to prove to himself that he could do this.

Around his home, he was as good as he could hope. He could move around confidently without his cane, he was able to cook some eggs, identify various condiments, and clean up when it was over. At least, he hoped that he had cleaned up.

Now, he was stir-crazy. He had paced the width, length, and perimeter of his apartment. He had felt through his newly labeled clothes, trying to associate the images he remembered to the textures beneath his fingers. He had run his fingers over picture albums that were now worthless, put them in a box, and pushed them deep under his bed. Finally, he walked to the table by the door where he stored his cane, wallet, and keys, and reviewed the money in his wallet one last time. He took a deep breath and walked out the door.

It was two blocks from Auggie's house to the bar. He remembered it as a quiet place with small crowds. After accidentally walking into the Laundromat - a mistake that he quickly recognized when he opened the door - he successfully found the bar and made his way to a seat. From there, it was easy enough. He didn't need to be able to see in order to be able to sit at a bar and drink a pint of beer.

... or three.

The harsh reality of sitting at a bar drinking beer was that he was going to have to learn to make his way to the restroom, as well.

"You want another?" The bartender asked.

Auggie paused a moment, in case somebody else was supposed to respond, then shook his head. "Probably not a great idea. I'm going to cash out. What do I owe?"

"Ten fifty."

Auggie wished that he had some five or ten dollar bills in his wallet as he pulled out the twenty. "If you could just give me a five back." He said as he handed over the bill.

The bartender sat a bill in his hand. "It's a five. I promise."

"I'll take your word for it." Auggie replied. "Are the restrooms still over there?" He asked, pointing to the back corner of the room.

"Yeah. Men's room is on the right."

"Thanks." Auggie replied as he unfolded his cane. He stood up, and had to keep his hand on the bar while he oriented himself. Three beers wouldn't have been much for Captain Anderson, but Auggie hadn't had any alcohol since his accident and his tolerance was lower than he expected.

The rehabilitation center hadn't given him lessons on being drunk and blind.

Slowly, he tapped his cane from side to side to make his way to the back corner. Along the way, he could tell that conversations paused to watch him. When he finally got on the other side of the restroom door, he leaned against the wall and sighed. After a moment of re-orienting himself, he did his business, took another deep breath, and stepped out the door. At this point, he just wanted to get home.

He had taken three careful steps out of the bathroom when his cane hit something that let out a quiet "Eep."

"Sorry." Auggie said, then moved a few inches in the opposite direction.

"Oh. Uh. It's ok. I just didn't see... I... Are you ok?" It was a pleasant voice, if Auggie ignored the tone of pity.

"Yep," he replied. "Just peachy."

A hand landed on his arm, and Auggie twitched under the touch. "You look pee chee." Her hand moved along his arm as she talked, which awakened something in Auggie that he hadn't expected.

"Actually," He hoped he was making something close to eye contact. "Could you maybe help me get out of here?" he asked with a grin.

"Sure," she replied. She grabbed the arm that she was touching.

Auggie stopped and pulled his arm free "Nope, like this." He stated as he ran his hand up her arm. It was thin, and her skin was smooth. He gripped at her elbow and moved closer than necessary. She smelled good, and was slightly shorter than him. In a moment, they were outside the door of the bar.

"Do you need help with a cab?"

"No, thank you. I'm just going a couple of blocks. It's much easier when there are no barstools in the way." He should have let go of her arm at this point.

"I... I don't have to stay here." She said, the words coming quickly.

Auggie pulled his eyebrows together trying to make sure he was interpreting her signals correctly. "Would you like to walk home with me?"

"I would feel bad leaving you on the curb like this."

Pity. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" She said in a more seductive tone.

He turned to face her and ran his hand up her arm, behind her neck, and through her hair. It all felt good in his buzzed state. "Okay," He replied. He moved his hand back to her elbow. "It's this way."

It probably was best that he had an arm to guide him for the walk. Even with her there, he was less than steady. When they reached his building, he let go of her to pull out his keys. When he opened the door he turned toward her. "Coming up?"

She didn't audibly answer, but he felt her body brush past him. He led her up the stairs to his apartment, feeling more confident with every step. As they entered his place, he folded up his cane and put out his hand. "I didn't catch your name. I'm Auggie."

She weakly took his hand. "I'm Tammy." She replied.

Auggie moved his other hand to her shoulder and pulled her closer to him. He moved his other hand to her face and kissed her. She moved closer, so he took that as a sign to keep going. It felt good to have a woman in his arms. His body was feeling alive in ways he had forgotten.

"Since you so kindly led me home, shall I lead you to the bedroom?" Auggie asked when he pulled away.

It was silent for a moment, then she quietly said "Sure."

Auggie smiled and held her hand as he led her up to his bedroom. Once there, he worked to unbutton her shirt, his fingers moving with the faux-dexterity of inebriation. He pulled it off of her and held it for a moment. "What color is this?" He asked, gently.

"Black," She lied.

Auggie dropped the shirt on the ground and ran his hands over her bra straps. "This too?"

"Do you want it to be?"

He blinked a few times as he ran his hands behind her back, feeling every inch of her skin as he unfastened the bra. "If you aren't going to describe things, I will have to explore them myself."

"I'm ok with that." She replied as she pulled his shirt up. "As long as you take this off, for me."

Auggie complied, and enjoyed the sound of her surprised gasp when he removed his shirt. Deciding that it was as good of a time as any to give her a view, he walked around the bed to his night stand and opened the drawer. He had to feel around a moment because this drawer hadn't been organized since his accident, but eventually he found a little plastic packet that he placed on the table.

Tammy walked around to join him, fascinated by watching him navigate. "I see we have the same idea." She stated.

Auggie turned and pushed her onto the bed.

Auggie laid on his back with the weight of her head on his chest. There wasn't anything that he had to re-learn to accomplish what he had accomplished in the past hour, but his new circumstances had made it a totally new experience. He noticed every sound she made, every muscle that twitched, and even the smell of her arousal. If you had used the words "Smell of her arousal" around August Anderson six months earlier, he would have laughed hysterically. But in his new world, it made perfect sense.

His problem now was that he didn't know if she was awake, and he really didn't want her to see him fumbling around his apartment in the morning. He decided that it was best to be direct. "Hey," He said in a light tone.

"Mmmmm. Hey." She responded. Her voice sounded as though she were interested in another round, and for a moment Auggie thought he could be, too. But the longer she stayed, the harder it would be to ask her to leave.

"Can I walk you back to your car?" Auggie asked. Perhaps it wasn't direct, but it got the point across.

Her head raised up. "You need me to go?" She sounded hurt.

"This was great," Auggie said with honesty. "And I don't want you to get the wrong idea, but..."

"Okay." She responded as she raised herself from the bed. He could hear her gathering up clothes, and wondered where his were. He rolled over and felt beside the bed, where he miraculously found his pants. Not bothering with underwear, he pulled the pants on and sat on his bed.

"I'm ready." She said.

He got up and walked to the door. Before opening it, he turned toward her and put his hands on her shoulders. "Thank you." He said, tenderly.

"It was a pleasure." She replied.

He opened the door, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. He leaned forward and felt a light kiss on his cheek. "Good night." He said.

Her footsteps went through the door and down the hallway. when he could no longer hear her, he closed the door and locked the deadbolt. There were many things that he worried about, in regards to his new life, and now he could check one item off that list.

Now, he needed to figure out how to find the rest of his clothes.


	2. The Unknown

**_A/N: This one I wrote before the season three finale, so obviously I wrote it before Sunshine and Rainbows. I wanted to explore the idea that Auggie woke up and didn't clearly remember the night before. Considering his career, this could be more than just a social complication._**

* * *

Auggie woke up slowly. He knew he hadn't slept enough, but the dryness in his mouth and the growing headache brought him to consciousness. He took a few deep breaths, convincing himself that he would feel better if he got up, took some medicine, drank some water, and went back to bed. It was the second deep breath that he realized he wasn't alone.

There was a woman in his bed.

Self-preservation was Auggie's first instinct. He steadied his breathing and kept his eyes closed, hoping that if the woman was awake she wouldn't realize that he was, as well. Then he tried to remember the night before. He took another deep breath, hoping that he would recognize her smell. Nothing smelled familiar about her.

Listening to her breathing, he was certain that she was still asleep. He slowly reached for his nightstand, to reassure himself that he was home. The presence of his familiar surroundings calmed him a little. He was in bed with a strange woman, but at least he wasn't also in a strange place. Enough memories were coming back to him that he was becoming more certain that this was the result of too much drinking, rather than any more troublesome ideas, such as him being drugged or kidnapped. He was simply at home, in bed, with a woman he couldn't identify.

His memories were coming back enough to convince himself that he brought her home willingly the night before. But the most basic details - her height, the length of her hair, her size - weren't coming to his memory.

This wasn't the first time he woke up startled by a woman in his bed that he didn't remember bringing home. In college, he had a study partner that stayed the night. They hadn't done anything, just drank too many beers while brainstorming ways to go above and beyond their senior capstone programming requirements and passed out in his bed. But that morning, and all others like it, had been simple: He woke up with a start, looked over, saw the woman, and could immediately remember what happened.

He wasn't going to learn anything about this woman without waking her up, or touching her. In the meantime, he focused on his breathing while he continued to pretend to be asleep.

Did they have sex? The sheets seemed more disturbed than normal, but he didn't really share his bed enough without sex to know how disturbed the sheets would be otherwise. He always wore protection, so he assumed that if they did do anything, there would be proof in his wastebasket. Remembering that he had just emptied the contents the day before, and therefore shouldn't be reaching into too many surprises, he slowly reached for the wastebasket under his nightstand. Regardless of the state of mind he was in the night before, he had enough wits about him to protect himself in that one regard, so he trusted that he had protected himself in other ways, as well.

As carefully as he could, he climbed out of the bed, hoping to not disturb her. When he stood, he listened to be sure she was still sleeping. Then he carefully walked to his kitchen with his iPhone and a set of ear buds.

He reached the island, glad that nothing had been left in the path for him to trip over. Carefully, he reached across the surface, but found nothing. Exploring further, he found nothing but his own household goods in their exact places. His frustration and curiosity grew.

He pulled a bottle of water from his fridge and walked to the couch. Still moving cautiously - he didn't trust visitors not to leave obstructions - he dragged his hand over the seat before sitting. Jackpot! Her purse was sitting on the seat. After listening for a moment to make sure that she hadn't roused, he opened the purse and searched for her wallet. Inside, he ran his fingers over a stack of cards.

The driver's license would be the best record, but there was no easy way for him to determine which card was her license. Quickly, he laid all the cards on his coffee table and took a picture with his phone. Then he turned the flat cards over, and took a picture of the other side. Carefully keeping them in the same order, he re-stacked the cards and put them in the purse the way he found it. Having a second thought, he reached back in and felt for the textured surface of a credit card and took a single shot of the front. Then he inserted an ear bud and navigated through his phone for the newest OCR application to scan the information on the card.

After hearing her bank name, credit card number, and expiration date, the mechanical voice stated her name. "Sally Robertson" did not ring any bells in Auggie's mind. She was not on any watch list for which he was cleared to know. But, considering she was in his house and he wasn't trusting himself to know all the details, he ran her name through all the crime databases that he could access with his phone. Nothing came up. The woman was as clean as he could determine without booting up his computer and hacking into her background information.

Somewhat relieved, Auggie drank the rest of his water and stepped into the shower. After the fastest shower and dressing he could manage, he leaned over the still-sleeping woman and ran his hands over her arms. He felt the length of her hair as he gently caressed her face. She began to stir.

"Good morning sunshine," he stated.

"Mmmm... Auggie. I should have known you would be a morning person." She replied.

"My job demands it," he replied. "Literally. I got a call this morning and have to rush to the office, so unfortunately you need to get up and moving."

"But it's Sunday," she replied in a confused voice. "Why would you..."

"I keep the computers running, darling. I'm always on call."

"Oh."

"Sorry. I don't mean to kick you out, I just have a car coming to pick me up in fifteen..."

"No, sure, I understand."

Auggie stepped back into the kitchen, hearing her quickly grab her clothes and scurry around. It was only five minutes later that he heard her walk into the kitchen, barefoot. "Do you want me to give you a ride to your office?"

"No thank-you. A coworker is picking me up on the way in."

"Oh, ok."

He could hear her putting on shoes. They must have been under the coffee table.

"Well, I had a great time last night."

"Sorry that it had to end so abruptly." Auggie said, hoping that she believed him.

"Well, you have to pay for this awesome loft somehow."

Auggie laughed. "Yeah."

"Do you want me to write down my number or something?"

Auggie picked up his phone and tapped a few times, a mechanical voice listed the names of programs until it said "Voice recorder."

"Just tell it to me," he said as he held his phone out to her.

She stated her name and phone number, and he hit a button to stop the recording. "Thank you." he said.

"Anytime. I, uh, I guess I'll be going now."

Auggie walked to the door and slid it open. "Have a great day."

"You too, Auggie. Call me sometime."

"I just might," he replied. She walked out the door and he heard her footsteps go down the hallway. He slid the door closed and turned the lock. Then he took two Tylenol with another bottle of water and went back to bed.

* * *

_**I don't often do this, but if you have a request for this series, let me know. No promises - I don't write well under pressure - but I could use some inspiration. **_


	3. The Skill of Deception

When Auggie met Annie Walker, he assumed he would have her in his bed within in one week, maybe two. Honestly, he didn't plan to waste any time. By taking her on her inaugural trip to Allen's, he intended for the night to end with her giving him a ride home and him thanking her with a different sort of ride.

Auggie hadn't taken into account that Annie had a family at home, and obligations that would take her away with little notice. He didn't figure that Annie's absence would be much of a setback, and there was always the aspiring lawyer with whom he could refine his social skills. While he wasn't interested in a meaningful relationship with any woman, he did was attracted to the idea that the college girl was somewhat intelligent.

His flirting was shameless. His ability to be whoever the other person needed him to be allowed him to easily slip into the role of the blind lawyer and he quickly pulled Miss Prelaw away from her friends while being more hands-on than most girls would allow. He found that women let him get away with far more touching, whether it was necessary or not. It was an opportunity that he routinely exploited.

Miss Prelaw was falling into his trap quickly as he was moving his fingers along her back. They were discussing something trivial, as Auggie was trying to keep the subject as far from actual law as possible. When she was determined to talk about legal issues, he made sure it was a matter of legalities that he knew best, like cyber crimes. She hardly noticed that he was moving closer and closer to her neck as they spoke.

Auggie grazed his lips over the skin below her ear, then moved to her ear. "Why don't we get out of here?" He asked.

He could hear her voice catch in her throat as she replied. "Okay."

He ran his hand through her hair then down her arm, and could immediately feel the goose-bumps under his touch. They stood up and he took her arm in the crook of his elbow. "Did you drive?" He asked as they walked out the door.

"Yes," She replied.

"You wanna get us back to my place?" He asked.

"Yeah."

"Then lead the way sweetheart."

Auggie didn't get many chances to practice his deception skills, so he loved using them on women from the bar. For one night, he could be somebody else, and he judged his abilities by how far he was able to get with the woman. So far, he had proven that his powers of deception were still some of the best. Tonight looked to be another win for his ego.

He walked Miss Prelaw up to his apartment, and intentionally didn't turn the lights on when they walked inside. A few ambient lamps kept his place from looking uninhabited, and previous visitors let him know that it provided the perfect setting for his intent. Of course, it also helped hide the fact that nothing in the place represented the person that he claimed to be.

Inside, Auggie wasted no time leading his companion to his bedroom, where he kissed her passionately. She gladly let him do things with his hands that she would have never allowed another man to do. Auggie had the night in bed that he originally planned to have with the new operative. This way was even better, with no awkward moments in the office to follow.

As Miss Prelaw was leaving his apartment the next morning, Auggie smiled at his accomplishment. Beyond spending the night with a college student, he had yet again proven to himself that he could still deceive with skill and flair. He had selected an asset, worked his cover, and acquired his intended results.

He was more than ready to go back into the field. Perhaps it was best that he didn't sleep with Annie Walker.

* * *

_**Not sure how I feel about this one, but it's been sitting on my computer a while. I feel like it's another moment where Auggie's path, from injury to Annie, took a crucial turn - in bed. The first line is actually from Chris himself, in one of the special features of the DVDs. **_


	4. Past and Present

Up to that point, it was the most emotionally exhausting day of Auggie's life. He wanted to get home, take a shower, go to sleep, and forget about the empty feeling that had consumed him since Natasha jumped off the train hours ago. Finally stepping into his apartment, he felt the tension leave his body.

And then he felt her. Her touch was meant to be comforting, but it was the last thing that he wanted at the moment. He still had a role to play, and he was going to play it. After a deep breath, he formed a small fake smile and turned to her.

"Hey." He said.

"Rough day?"

He groaned. "Long day."

"I know how to make it all better." She stated, her breath in his ear.

He turned and wrapped his arms around her. Then he remembered the woman in his arms just hours earlier. "I need to shower first." He pulled away.

"I can help with that."

"I'll be right back out."

Auggie peeled his clothes off, knowing that Liza was watching. He made the water hot and lathered longer than normal. Thankfully, she didn't join him.

When he got out, he didn't hear her. "Liza?" he said, hoping that she might have left.

"Over here." She said from his bed.

"Making yourself at home?"

"You didn't mind the other night." She replied.

He slid on underwear and climbed into bed next to her. "I enjoy the visit. But I may not be good company tonight."

"I don't mind. Want to talk about it?"

"You know I can't."

She kissed his shoulder, so different than the kisses that Natasha had showered his body with earlier that day. She curled into his side, and he ran his fingers through her hair. He wanted to spend the evening cataloguing his memories of Natasha, the feel of her lips, the way she touched him, the smell of her hair, and the way she pronounced his name.

Instead, he was in bed with a woman that he was only dating to gain information. Instead, he was remembering Annie's tone after she found out about Liza. All he wanted was a moment to mourn the playful and adventurous love from his previous life, but he didn't have the chance. He leaned into Liza's hair and inhaled, letting her scent take the place of Natasha's and deciding to reap what he had sown.


	5. Mile High

Auggie found his seat on the plane and, for once, had no problem storing his bag in the overhead bin. The off-duty flight attendant watched him with a smile, and approached the seat once he was settled.

"Excuse me, sir. But I have the window seat."

Auggie smiled at the familiar voice and stood up, the woman brushing closely by him as she slipped into her seat. He followed her and settled back into his seat close to her body. "Glad you could make it." He said, putting his hand on her leg.

"I am glad to see that you got home from Istanbul safely."

"No sweat." Auggie replied with a smirk.

"I highly doubt that."

"Well, I'm here now, and you are here with me."

"Yes I am." She replied before leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek.

Auggie turned to make it a kiss on the mouth, before pulling away and keeping his hand cupped behind her head. "Thank you for everything you did. I promise there will be no scavenger hunts this weekend."

Franka laughed. "That's no fun at all."

"I'm sure we can find something else to entertain ourselves." Auggie said, his lips next to her ears.

"Hm." Franka replied.

"Now, we have a long flight ahead of us, and we need some way to pass the time."

"We could recite the greek alphabet over and over." She suggested.

"That gets old fast." Auggie replied. "What about something more interactive?"

"Compare embarrassing childhood stories?"

"Perhaps something more physical."

"Are we already playing twenty questions? Is whatever you are thinking of alive?" She asked with a smile, moving her hand along his leg.

"I do so love the way you think." Auggie responded.

"I also know that the attendant will be by our seats five times over the next fifteen minutes, before we get in the air, so we should probably behave."

"And after we are in the air?" Auggie asked with a smirk.

"I have some plans, after they turn off the fasten seatbelts sign."

"You have plans?" He raised an eyebrow seductively.

"Oh, I have a list of plans a _mile high._"

Auggie's eyes widened. "Is that so?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, technically, it isn't a whole list."

"I thought you used the metric system."

"The Kilometer High Club just doesn't have the same ring to it."

"You're right. Anything measured in meters would sound like an Olympic Sport."

Franka laughed. "I do plan on some endurance."

Auggie tilted his head "Then I'm glad I ate a big breakfast."

"Good." Franka said, softly. Her voice soothed him in a way few others ever had.

"In the meantime, why don't you tell me about the adventures you have had in the sky."

"I think your adventures would make for better stories." Franka responded.

"Perhaps, but then I would have to tell them, and you are the one with the pretty voice."

"I thought you only liked me for my body?"

"I like you for a lot of reasons, despite your taste in music."

She laughed. "Well, my stories all seem quite boring. Occasional drunks, worried mothers, and the occasional person that thinks that turbulence is the bump you feel when you cross into a new time zone."

"That seems reasonable."

"It's preposterous, particularly when you consider that I have to keep a straight face around folks like that."

Auggie gave a wolfish grin and put his hand on her leg. "You don't have to keep a straight face around me."

Franka's voice dropped "There's a flight attendant coming to check our seat belts, who may make our lives more complicated if she notices what you are doing with that hand."

Auggie obediently put his hands into his own lap, but stayed seated so that he was leaning slightly in her direction, taking in her smell.

An hour later they were in the air, the beverage service had ended, the lights of the plane were off, and the other passengers were quiet. Auggie could hear a few people lightly snoring. He reached over and placed his hand on Franka's leg, suggestively. She took his hand and placed it in a more suggestive position. They quietly explored each other's body as much as they could before Franka sneaked them into the small airplane bathroom where they finished the deed.

...

Three short days later Auggie and Franka stood at the airport, saying their goodbyes.

"If this is the way you say 'Thank you,' you must have friends all over the world." She said with admiration.

Auggie simply smiled in response. "I hate that you have to go on a different flight."

"We barely got away with our escapades the first time."

Auggie grinned and cupped his hand behind her head.

"Will I see you again?" Franka asked.

Auggie pinched his lips and leaned his forehead against hers. He took a deep breath. Franka understood.

"Well, if life brings you in my direction again, don't be a stranger."

"I won't." Auggie replied.

"Take care of yourself, Auggie."

* * *

**_A/N - I'm still only able to type with one hand, so no major updates coming fast. I just decided that this one, which has been sitting on my hard drive, was ready enough to be posted. Hope you enjoyed!_**


	6. Vodka

_**Pure drivel.**_

* * *

There was no typical CIA agent, but Auggie would put even-odds on the fact that 90% of his graduating class from The Farm had at least dreamed of walking into a bar (in formal evening wear) and ordering a martini "Shaken, not stirred."

Auggie had no use for martinis. He tried them, once when he first was recruited to the CIA, and later when he was in Europe, hoping that the problem was the quality of the liquor. The problem, as best he could figure, was not the quality of the gin or vodka, but the fact that it was not tequila.

Auggie would settle for scotch, if the occasion called for a classy liquor drink. But part of being a good operative was knowing how each liquor affected his system and staying away from those that he really couldn't handle. While most people associate tequila with crazy nights and uncomfortable mornings, Auggie had the same aversion to vodka. Tequila was predictable. Vodka was always a bad idea.

He should have remembered that when he meet her the night before.

He had gone to the bar after work to soothe his soul. It was a rough day and he was washing it down with a couple of Patron shots. She had approached him and asked if she could join for the third. He had agreed and she ordered the next round. It was only when he put the drink to his mouth that he realized that she had switched to vodka. He had swallowed the drink like a champ and decided to continue on the same course as her.

They ended up going back to her place, a student apartment near the Metro. She had led him to her bedroom while he hid the fact that he was far more disoriented than he was comfortable with. He tried to focus on his surroundings, but in his inebriated state his body was only focused on her. She didn't have a specific scent, just a mix of vodka, sweat, a little bit of cigarette smoke in her hair, and something Auggie had started to categorize as simply "Woman."

He had no reason to think that she was less than pretty. Other men were giving her attention at the bar, and he overheard some jealousy when she had chosen him. He was learning to identify a lot about women from the conversations that surrounded them.

The next morning, Auggie didn't remember much what about what the two of them did together. He didn't find this suspicious, in fact it probably meant that they did nothing exciting. He could only focus on the pounding headache and foul taste in his mouth.

He didn't try to be quiet as he found his way to the bathroom. He stumbled on something along the way, but it wasn't too bad. Once there, he used his hands to drink from the sink. Splashing some water on his face, he felt a little bit better, except for the slight nausea he always felt after drinking vodka. If they had stuck to Patron, he wouldn't be feeling a thing.

"You okay?" A sleepy voice asked from the doorway.

"Yeah." Auggie replied.

"Coming back to bed?"

Auggie wanted nothing more than to lay down and sleep off the booze, but he would do that best from his own place. "Actually, I'm going to head on home."

"It's 4am. The metro isn't running."

"I have a..."Auggie tried to remember what cover he had used the night before. "... Brother coming to visit later today. Want to make sure I'm home when he gets there. Don't want too many questions, you know?"

Auggie sold the story by pressing close to her and giving her wink.

"Yeah. I understand. Do you want me to give you a ride?"

"No need for that. I'll call a cab. I just... Uh... I need to know where we are. And the location of my pants would be handy, too."


End file.
